by Rachel James
Besides, it’s not theft. It rightfully belongs to me.
As she exited her mistress’s chamber, the sound of festive merriment escaped from the hall. Lifting her hood over her head, Teagen scurried past the looming building and toward the stables. It had been many years since she had ridden a horse, and she hoped she’d not lost her touch.
Teagen opened the stable door, wincing at its loud creak. She glanced around. The place was deserted. She let out a long breath in relief. Her heart pounding, she crept into the shadows, wishing she had some kind of light.
Her eyes soon adjusted, and she headed for the horses. A dark stallion snorted as she crept by, causing her to stumble backward.
A smaller mare might be more suitable.
Continuing down the aisle, she passed several horses, all asleep. Finally, she stopped at a chestnut beauty that leaned over the stable gate.
As Teagen shuffled closer to the horse, it reached out and sniffed her hair. She stifled a giggle. “A confident one, aren’t you?”
She opened the fence and grabbed hold of the mare’s mane, slipping on its saddle. “Good lass.” She stroked the horse’s smooth back as she fiddled with the buckle and the awkward clasp snapped into place. “Now, are you going to let me mount? Good lassie.”
Teagen hitched her dress and swung her leg around. “No time for side-saddle. Besides, the plan is we won’t be seen.” The mare snorted as if in understanding. “I’m glad you agree. Now, let’s depart—with haste.”
Teagen clicked her heels and the animal obeyed. They passed by several wooden huts before reaching Hunter’s Forest. At least the full moon gave them some light as a guide. A flutter of bats flew by as she entered the woods, almost knocking her off the horse. She wanted to scream, but somehow managed to contain herself. The horse trembled beneath her. She should focus on riding and calming this timid excuse for a horse—or all this would be for naught.
A wide passageway came into view, which appeared to be a road, but the darkness made visibility poor. She’d veer right. Surely that was east.
She rode throughout the night until she reached her limit. “I think we’d better rest a bit or else I’ll fall asleep riding.” Exhausted, she settled under a large tree and wrapped herself in a blanket, not even minding the pungent odour of horse manure, which clung to the coarse fabric.
Without warning, a man’s raspy voice jolted her out of her encroaching sleep.
“Well, well, well, what do we ’ave ’ere?”
She squinted up in confusion. What on earth? The men’s alarming masked appearance sent off alarm bells. Outlaws! She scrambled further away, but her boot caught in the fine hem of her lady’s dress. There was nowhere to go.
“I think we found ourselves a lady, fellas.” They sniggered at some private joke and honed in closer.
“Wh-what do you want?” she stammered. “I have no gold.”
“That’s what they all say at first...but I see you ’ave a pouch...empty it!”
Teagen opened her small bag containing food for her journey onto the ground. The man kicked the stale bread out of the way and grabbed her dress, pulling her up.
“This all you got?”
Unwashed blonde hair lingered across his covered face. He stroked her cheek and perused her countenance. “She sure is a pretty one, lads.”
Teagen fidgeted in his tight grasp. “Let me go. I have naught to give you. Free me, I say!” She struggled with all her might, but he had a grip of her flailing arms with his other hand. He slammed her hard against a tree, and pain radiated through her skull. Her vision clouded as trees spun into a mixture of green and brown hues, and her limp body slumped to the ground.
“Well now, that is where ya wrong, dearie. You ’ave to pay us in something, or we won’t let you pass, ain’t that right, lads?”
She heard shouting from afar, and watched the outlaws collapse to the ground before everything faded away.
Chapter Two
Ryce re-positioned his lamp and slung the saddle heavily on his stallion. The horse neighed in protest. “Sorry, old boy,” he said, patting the horse’s side. “You know how I am first thing.”
The stable door creaked open, and Ryce glanced up at Sherwin. In truth, he didn’t need his physician friend to accompany him, but life as one of the king’s knights was a lonely one, and he could use the camaraderie.
“Well, Ryce, I confess this is somewhat of a surprise.”
“For you and me both. I had envisioned being half way to East Shieldia by now, in pursuit of my plot of land.”
Sherwin tied bags of supplies to the backs of their horses. “I suspect the life of a farmer will not suit you.”
Ryce pulled himself up. “Mayhap. But I should like the choice all the same. I despise our deeds. Am I a warrior or a spy? It seems we do whatever the king bids, no questions asked.” He sighed and shook his head. “No, being a king’s knight is not an honour, but a curse, and I’ll be glad to be free of it.”
They made their way out of the paddock and headed to Hunter’s Forest where the road ran through to the coast. The sun had not yet risen, but he was eager to commence.
One more mission, and he’d obtain his papers declaring him a free man.
“Do you believe Kenric?”
Ryce looked back at his friend. “Why? You have reason to doubt him?”
Sherwin curled his lip. “Kenric is known for his selfish ways. I only wonder if he ever intends to free you at all. Perhaps he is telling you this because he understands it’s what you wish to hear.”
“Then I’ll speak directly to the king. Kenric is no match for Eadward.”
The men travelled in companionable silence for the first part of the journey. Ryce breathed in the calming scent of fresh, dewy grass mixed in with damp earth and foliage. Arising early was never pleasant, but splendid weather in the crisp outdoors made up for it.
Ryce slowed his horse to a trot.
“What is it?” Sherwin said.
“Didn’t you hear that?”
Sherwin paused and cocked his head to one side. “Is that a woman screaming?” Ryce glanced at his friend as another shriek echoed through the forest. “Make haste.”
The two men sped through the wood, keeping hidden by the trees. A group of bandits had a young woman surrounded.
Ryce pulled out his long bow and aimed it at the bandits. “I’ll take them out...you see to the girl.”
Sherwin nodded in acknowledgment.
Ryce released a series of arrows, taking the majority of the men down. He slung his bow over his back, withdrew his broadsword, jumped off his horse and charged toward the remaining outlaw. The leader squirmed under his tight grasp. “I suggest you leave the lady alone,” Ryce growled into the man’s ear, “or else you’ll end up like your friends here.”
He released his grasp, and the man ran into the forest. Ryce turned his attention to the young woman unconscious on the ground.
“She has an alarming head wound,” Sherwin said, “but she is alive.”
“Let’s make camp. I’ll start a fire and shoot us something to eat.” He helped Sherwin move the woman to a more suitable position.
“Who do you suppose she is?”
Ryce perused the soft, dark tendrils of hair, which draped across her pretty face. She bore a graze to her cheek and finger marks around her neck too...she was fortunate to be alive. “I know not, but her face is familiar.” He glanced at her clothes. “I wonder from whence she came. ’Tis a strange place to find a woman, all by herself, in the middle of nowhere. And where’s her horse? You can’t reach this part of the forest by foot. It be miles from anywhere.”
Sherwin retrieved bandages from his bag. “Indeed, ’tis a mystery. We shall have to content ourselves to wait until she awakens for any answers.”
Teagen didn’t move, her world dark and blurry, and her head throbbed as though she had been struck. A cold breeze blew over her face, and goosebumps shot up on the back of her hands. How her muscles ached.
Nervous energy surged through her body, her heart racing with fear. Why couldn’t she see?
“Sherwin, she seems to be regaining consciousness.”
She twisted her body in response. “Who goes there?” Her hands fumbled in the darkness.
Her dagger was gone. They’d taken her weapon.
Firm arms tightened hold of her. “M’lady, don’t be afraid. We’re here to help.”
She pulled away instinctively. “I...I...I am blind!” she croaked.
“Fear not,” the voice reassured her. “The sun is fading, and you have taken a severe blow to your skull. Your eyes are merely readjusting.”
She hit her head? What on earth was the man talking about? “Where am I?”
“Hunter’s Forest.”
What was she doing in the woods? “I thirst,” she whispered.
Her vision began to improve. She identified basic shapes and distinguished branches moving above her. Something advanced toward her face, and she edged back.
“Some water. I’m going to tilt your head to allow you to swallow…steady now.”
The cold spring liquid tasted sweet to her lips.
“Can you tell us your name?”
Her name? “I...I don’t recall.” Her breath quickened, and despite lying flat to the ground, her stomach grew queasy once more.
The man stopped her as she tried to move. “There’s no point in getting up yet. You’ll only get dizzy. Let’s take a look at your eyes. How many fingers am I holding up?”
“I know not... They’re blurry.”
“Worry not. I’m holding up my cloak. Can you identify its colour?” Teagen squinted. “Green? Brown mayhap.”
“Good. I suggest you rest here a while until your symptoms disappear.” The man tapped her hand and walked away.
She heard another fellow’s low-toned voice. There must be two of them.
“She’s disorientated, Ryce, and cannot recall anything. I’ve seen this before with head injuries.”
“Something’s not right. Did you detect her accent?”
“Aye. Mayhap she travels from Meigen.”
“Meigen is miles away. I wonder if she speaks the truth.”
“Her wounds are genuine. I ascertain no reason to doubt her confused state.”
“We must remain on our guard. We’ve already lost a day’s ride. I’ll send word to Kenric when we reach Elmetia. By then we should understand more.”
Uncomfortable, Teagen shifted as her head throbbed painfully. She just needed rest.
Kenric stomped the length of his chamber like an untamed horse in captivity. The slave girl, who’d been witness to both his misconduct with Gwyn and his private conversation with Ryce, had now mysteriously vanished. And the royal dagger he’d taken from Elmetia eight years prior seemingly along with her. Things didn’t add up. What business did she have with Niall? Mayhap the girl was a relative...only they were all killed at the invasion.
He stopped in his tracks. Gwyn was her friend. She might know something. These feeble slaves all stood together. They merely needed coercion.
Teagen’s hope for a decent night’s sleep did not occur. Her dreams, full of jumbled-up images, made no sense. She tossed and turned, with an uneasy notion in the pit of her stomach. She had something imperative to do... Mayhap searching for someone, but whom?
The perspiration, which saturated her gown, awoke her and she sat up with a start. She drew out a long breath. She was in the forest. Two men lay asleep not far from her. Last eve’s escapades had not been a dream after all. She let out a small groan. What was she to do now? She hadn’t planned on bumping into anyone. She glanced across at her rescuers once more. Their dress clearly signified Shieldok warriors with their distinguishing fur cloaks and body armour. One man was a fair bit taller than the other. The smaller of the two had dark, almost Wealdfolk looking hair. But the former was clearly a Dyrahn.
Teagen caught her breath in her throat. She’d seen this man before.
She rose slowly to her feet and ventured nearer. She had to get a closer look. As she tiptoed over, she tripped once again on her tunic. The sound of the fabric ripping echoed loudly in the desolate woods.
“You must be feeling better.”
Her cheeks grew warm at his voice.
“Aye, thank you,” she said with controlled force. She stared into the pool of steel-grey eyes, which stood before her. It was definitely him—Ryce the Warrior. God, please may he not recognize me. She chewed her lip and toyed with her dress.
“You gave us a scare yesterday. What is a woman of stature doing out in the woods all alone? ’Tis not safe in these parts.”
“I am afraid I cannot tell you—”
“Ah, you don’t remember. Well, a knock to the head can do that...mayhap you should pray the gods will have mercy on you.”
“Pray to the gods? Why would I do that?”
“I know not. I put my faith in only myself, but most Shieldoks around here petition the gods when they want something.”
“I believe in only one God.”
Ryce halted and turned to face her. “You mean you belong to the New Religion?”
“I’m a Christian, aye, but it’s naught to be ashamed of.”
“Like I said, I don’t believe in anything. Religion only leads to trouble.”
She thrust her hands to her hips. “Mayhap it’s because you’ve been putting your faith in the wrong things.”
“I see our invalid has recovered.” The other man sat up on his bedroll, his short, dark hair ruffled in a mess atop his head. “Forgive me. I’m Sherwin, and this is my friend Ryce. We came to your aid yesterday.”
She relaxed at his sincere approach. “Then I offer you my gratitude. ’Twas very kind of you.”
“Not at all.”
“So you are a physician?”
“Aye, to the king’s warriors.”
Ryce leaned over his friend and slapped his shoulders. “He is also a trained soldier, but he cares little for violence and prefers saving lives to taking them, no matter whose side they’re on.”
Sherwin’s lips curled up. “I confess I am a better physician than warrior.”
She studied the men in front of her and could determine little more about them. “So what brings you two to this part of the kingdom? You are passing through?”
Ryce glanced at Sherwin. “We travel to Lyndisea on the king’s business.”
She drew a breath. Well, now was her chance. “I’ve dear friends on that island. I’d be very grateful if I could travel with you. It seems a lass like me is in need of protection.”
Ryce’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you’d lost your memory.” She held his stare. “It appears I have regained the most part.”
Sherwin picked up a bag and gestured for Teagen to sit. “Well, that’s good, Ryce. ’Tis perfectly normal. The body heals as it will in its own time.” He retrieved a roll of bandages and removed the soiled one from her head.
She winced at his touch. Though he was tender, the pain was intense.
“Can you remember your name, and where you’re from?”
Aye, but I cannot tell you. “They call me Hilda. I’ve travelled from Huntenham. I am in her ladyship’s employ.”
She sensed Ryce study her closer. Does he recognize me?
“You are one of her lady’s maids? Nonsense. She would not send you on an errand unaccompanied. And where is your horse?”
“I have taken a leave of absence to see my, er...family, and as for my horse...” Teagen glanced around the woodland, which appeared unthreatening and bright, in stark contrast to the previous night. “I do believe it has fled.”
Ryce opened his mouth, but Sherwin stopped him short. “Enough, friend. The poor lady has had a trying encounter. I am sure your questions can wait a while longer.”
Ryce folded his arms in resignation, and his eyes narrowed further. “Very well, Hilda. We will accompany you to your destination—but we don’t take kindly to being lied to. Understand?”
/> She nodded, relieved she had stalled him for time to think. More questions would come, with that there was no doubt.
“Let us rest a short while.”
Teagen breathed a sigh of relief. Her head pounded, and she couldn’t have gone on much longer.
Sherwin eased her down from his horse and carried her to a grassy mound by a stream, leaning her against a tree by the shade.
She smiled in appreciation. “Thank you.” Sherwin was undoubtedly the friendlier of the two men. Or mayhap more trusting. Unlike his friend.
Teagen steadied herself with her elbows, and accepted the wine skin Sherwin offered. “All this travelling by the roadside must become tiresome.”
Sherwin smiled. “True. I care little for it myself. But you do get used to it.” He glanced at Ryce caring for the horses. “Now Ryce, here, he can’t wait to escape. Wants to settle himself down, mayhap start a family.”
She watched the man in question retrieve a parchment and scribble something down with a piece of charcoal. He rolled it, opened the pigeon cage, which dangled on the side of his horse, and placed it inside a pigeon’s anklet. Who is he sending a message to? “Does he have a sweetheart?”
Sherwin shook his head. “Nay. ’Tis difficult to find someone when you’re never in a place long enough to get to know them.”
She stretched out her legs, dipping her exposed toes into the sunlight. “And what about you, would you settle, given the chance?”
He leaned back and gazed into the deep blue sky. “Aye, that I would. But I am a ‘make-do’ kind of man, you see. I have few aspirations. If something good comes my way, I take it, if not...well, I try not to grumble.”
“Then you are a better person than I.”
She rolled on her stomach and played with the grass between her hands. “I want the best in whatever I can get. Why should anyone settle for less?”
“You strive for flawlessness?”
Teagen frowned. “I’m an achiever, I’ll grant you, but flawlessness? Methinks not. Those types of people can come across as rather pessimistic, do you not think?”